affection/alienation
“And to me, it isn’t funny, to me this is real
So I figured we’d tell everybody the way we feel
About affection, and how people need plain old affection
Now we got TV and there’s stereos with tons of records
Yes, and there’s books and magazines everywhere
But plain old affection sits there over in the corner
And wonders, ‘Does anyone remember that I’m still here?’
And I know it takes courage to reach out to people
When they seem to want your touch but you can’t tell
'Cause they can always laugh or misunderstand you
And you probably won’t like that so well, but I say that
People all over the world are good
And people all over the world are not bad
But if someone don’t start it first
We won’t get what we wished we had which is affection
Well, I’ll tell you about myself now, the way I used to be
I used to blame the world because I got no affection
And it’s lonely in the world I suppose
But I used to be a snob, I’d say 'Oh, I don’t have time for those people,’
And I used to say, 'Oh, I don’t have anything in common with those.’
Then I relaxed a little, and I met more people who just liked me
That gave me the courage to reach out and give
And that helped me to get more affection
And that helped me to live”
–Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers, “Affection”
Boston’s own Jonathan Richman is a national treasure, and I believe him when he says that to him, the global shortage of affection isn’t funny, it’s real. I share his concerns that people spend too much time with distractions (books and music and television as he mentioned, nowadays the Internet, smartphones, video games, and so on) and not enough connecting with each other. And I know that there have been times when I’ve snobbishly or fearfully avoided spending time with people when doing so might have done me good.
But I don’t know if I think his perspective here is wise or simplistic, or both. I’ve certainly relaxed a little, and met more people who liked me and who I liked. But, as cold as it may sound, I don’t want affection from most people because I don’t have affection for most people. I’ve always been the sort who has wanted close connections with a very small number of people, rather than less close connections with a larger number of people. I’d rather be with the people I want to be with than be alone, but I’d rather be alone than be with the overwhelming majority of people. Even when I’m with people I genuinely like and admire, as I was last night, I often feel out of place, unsure of what to say or how to connect.
And I’m sure that affection isn’t simple for most people. Like words, it can take on meanings, be misinterpreted, be a means of communication or miscommunication. (I’m thinking now of an early scene in Blue is the Warmest Color, in which Adele is crushed to find that a classmate’s show of romantic affection meant nothing.) And I think it’s only more complicated for me than most. As I wrote back in June, “To this day, the collision of gender dysphoria and romantic longing remains like a volatile chemical reaction inside me, the feelings swirling around each other and feeding off of each other.” For every moment of connection I experience–at the office, at a restaurant, at a bar–there sometimes seem to be two that make me feel disconnected, alienated.
(Incidentally, I had an electrolysis appointment yesterday. Sometimes I try to find value in the unusual nature of my journey and the perspective it provides and sometimes I succeed, but right now, everything feels like just another reminder that I’m different, and I’m so very fucking tired of being different.)
I also love Jonathan’s distinctive take on the song The Origin of Love from Hedwig and the Angry Inch. With lyrics of his own, he emphasizes the issues of isolation and affection at the song’s core, the suggestion that maybe pain and restlessness are at the heart of love.
“Up in the heavens, there was no one to love because there was no lover and no beloved
We were family together as one
We started violence, violence, hurting each other and making a mess of things on the ground
And that’s the origin of love
We started hurting each other, we started running from silence
We started looking to each other and not inside, and that’s the origin of love
When we needed each other, we put our arms around each other searching for the origin of love.”
We sure do make a mess of things sometimes, here on the ground.
Notes
ahuntersheart liked this
preptime liked this
agameofme posted this